


Sooner or Later

by mylifeisloki



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6969604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeisloki/pseuds/mylifeisloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Civil War, Natasha realizes that she might have played her cards a little too close to her chest. According to Sam, Steve has already moved on without her. Is there any hope left?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sooner or Later

**Author's Note:**

> Sooner or Later, based on the song by The Grass Roots. Go listen to it, because it's adorable.

It was too late.

Natasha supposed she would have heard about it at one point or another, but she hadn’t ever imagined it would be through Sam. She hadn’t ever imagined that she would hear those words said so _casually_ as they unpacked the meager groceries they’d bought for their safehouse.

“Should have seen our boy making his moves on Sharon,” he’d quipped. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

She’d remained perfectly calm. A good spy _always_ knew how to hide. “What moves?”

“He kissed her,” Sam explained, reaching up to tuck some cans into a cabinet. “Right there in front of me and Bucky.” He shrugged a little, thankfully not facing Natasha. “I get it. She’s a pretty girl and all. But the fact that Steve initiated it? Never would have seen it coming.”

Well, that was that. Natasha shouldn’t have been surprised and it would be unreasonable for her to think that Steve would ever just see through her carefully constructed walls without some kind of give on her end. Still, there was a part of her that had hoped…

“Nat?”

Sam’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts and Natasha offered up a smile while she handed over the rest of the canned food. “How long do you think it’ll take for us to get sick of canned beans and reheated soup?”

“Hm. Four days?”

They shared a laugh at that and Natasha helped him put the rest of their groceries away before heading back up to her room. She was at the bottom of the stairs when Steve returned from his run, shirt in hand as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Hey,” he huffed, smiling in that way that made her stomach flutter a little bit. “How was shopping?”

Defenses kicked in right away. “Well, we’re going to be living on canned food for a while and I’m pretty sure Sam’s going to start whining in less than a week, but otherwise it went fine.”

“Good thing we like him, right?” He laughed in return, even going so far as to nudge her shoulder.

Natasha rolled her eyes fondly and led the way up the stairs, turning left to head into her own room while Steve turned right for the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The second her door closed, she let herself have a little… moment. It was in private that she could just cross her arms over her chest and look to the side as she tried to keep everything together.

Was she going to cry? Was she really going to let this stupid little thing make her cry?

No. She wasn’t. She was the Black Widow. She… She was an assassin. She was an Avenger.

She was not going to let some _boy_ make her cry, even if the boy in question was Steve. Even if the boy in question was sweet and smart and kind in a way Natasha hadn’t ever been accustomed to before she met him. Even if… Even if he’d always treated her like she was worth something more than what she could do with her legs. Even if she could have just stepped up and at least _tried_ to tell him how she felt.

It certainly wasn’t Steve’s fault that he’d moved on with Sharon. Knowing him, he was probably already falling for her, already thinking about whether or not they had a future together. Steve was a romantic at heart; idealist in a lot of ways. Maybe it was better this way, right? Sharon was probably normal. She could probably eventually settle down with Steve, give him a couple of kids, give him the whole life he’d wanted in the first place—marriage to a Carter, and a family.

Yeah. It was better that way. That was how love worked, right? It wasn’t about her. It was about him.

If he was happy, then that was all that mattered. After all he’d been through, Steve deserved a win.

Now that they were all settled in an old house somewhere on the coast of Ireland, Natasha had already been through what Steve must have done with his own two hands in order to make this possible. He’d managed to get Bucky all the way to Wakanda, where they would hopefully be able to find a cure. And he’d broken the others out of the Raft prison all on his own before they’d worked together to contact her covertly and bring her aboard.

The Secret Avengers.

It was starting to grow on her.

But for the moment, they had to lay low and avoid any attempts to find them and put _all_ of them in a prison instead. In the old house they’d scavenged and partially restored, everyone lived in relative harmony. Wanda and Natasha shared a room, though Wanda stayed there most of the time while Natasha preferred to be downstairs with Clint or outside finding something to do. Clint shared a room with Scott, both of whom contacted their kids almost as soon as they could- all with untraceable lines, and only for the length of time it took to reassure their families that they were alright, and that they loved them very much. Sam and Steve shared another room on the top floor and frequently went missing in the early morning for their run along the shore. It wasn’t a bad life, despite the abundance of crushing boredom and the lack of diverse food.

As the days went on, Natasha almost let herself forget what Sam had told her about Steve and Sharon. The problem was that she never forgot anything, so it was kind of difficult to set aside one particular piece of information, especially when she had nothing else to focus on. She had to admit that, if nothing else, Steve looked a little more at peace now. Maybe that was what someone looked like when they were in love and knew the other person loved them back. Kind of how Clint lit up around Laura. Steve was much more understated about it, but that was just… exactly what she’d expect.

One day, she was sitting on the steps outside enjoying the cool breeze and Steve plopped down next to her. “You know,” he said. “I really thought that phone would ring within a couple of days.”

Natasha looked up and him and raised her eyebrows at his defeated expression. Had he sent a phone to Sharon as well? Because there was no way Tony would call them right away. Not after all that had happened in Siberia. She didn’t even know, but she assumed he had sent out two phones if he was waiting for his to ring. He was probably worried about her. “There’s still time,” she tried. “Just be patient.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed, shoulders slumping. “I just figured—I don’t know. I figured it’d be sooner.”

Smiling a little, Natasha reached out to place her hand over his- an uncharacteristic move she saved for very special occasions. This alone was meant to let him know that even if he had gotten some kind of inkling of her feelings, she was going to support him. “Easy,” she told him. “Not everyone moves as fast as you do.”

Steve smiled and put his arm around Natasha’s shoulders without really thinking about it. She could tell it was easy for him, giving that kind of genuine platonic contact she’d never been very good with. Seduction was one thing, but knowing when to touch a friend was something else entirely. Left without much choice, she gingerly leaned into him a little bit to soak up some of that warmth she was always so envious of. “What you said about regretting helping us,” he said at some point. “Do you?”

Well, that was an easy one. “No,” she answered. “No, I don’t regret it.”

Steve squeezed her shoulders just as Sam’s voice rang out to call him back inside- probably to help with dinner. “Gotta go,” he said easily. “Before Sam burns the house down.”

Alone again, Natasha let her smile fall and pulled her knees up, leaning her chin on her arms so she could watch the water move on the other side of the beach. She didn’t move again until she heard the wood creak very lightly, but she relaxed a moment later when she realized it was Wanda delicately sitting down beside her. “Will you ever tell him?”

“Wanda, I’ve asked you not to be vague.”

She sighed, leaning back and tipping her chin up to look at the sky. “Will you ever tell Steve how you feel about him?”

Natasha turned and gave the other woman a severe look. “You know, it’s a pretty big invasion of privacy to go poking around in my head.”

Wanda smiled and let her head hang back for a moment. “I didn’t have to.”

Shit. “Then I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she grumbled, turning her gaze back to the ocean.

“Of course you do,” she continued. “It’s in the way you lean into him. The way you look at him like he is the sun.” Natasha rolled her eyes to herself as Wanda sighed wistfully. “Love is an imperfect thing, always. It is never what you expect, and yet everything you ever hoped it could be.”

At that, at the little tremble in Wanda’s voice, Natasha turned back to her and frowned for a moment. “You miss him, don’t you?” She asked knowingly, giving her a little smile. “It’s okay if you do.”

Wanda huffed. “We are not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

“We don’t need to be talking about me. There’s nothing to talk about.”

It was Wanda’s turn to roll her eyes. “Do you think I am stupid? You are not hiding it nearly as well as you think, Natasha. It is only a matter of time before he sees it as well, if he has not already.”

Natasha hated to admit it, but if Wanda could figure it out then there was at least a small chance Steve would figure it out too. And an even bigger chance that Sam would figure it out first. That just wouldn’t do. “Come on,” she said, changing the subject. “I think dinner’s almost ready.”

As usual, they gathered around the little table and ate their reheated soup or beans and vegetables or rice and some kind of roasted meat… Whatever they ate, there was usually friendly conversation, but tonight the topic went in a direction Natasha hadn’t prepared herself for. “So,” Sam said brightly. “Have we heard from a certain pretty little blonde lately? I know _some_ of us must be pret-ty interested in where she is right now.”

Steve ducked his head and pushed his food around. “Come on,” he answered, shaking his head. “Let’s not do that, okay? There are a lot of people back home we’d like to check up on.”

“But not _everyone_ got a kiss from Captain America before he disappeared.”

Scott went right for it. “Woah, I want a kiss from Captain America.” Silence. He shrugged a little.

“Sam, it was just a kiss,” Steve piped up. “I didn’t ask her to marry me.”

Natasha felt like someone was slowly ripping out little pieces of her stomach and started pushing her food around without actually eating it. “No, but you got some!” Sam countered. “That’s big, for you.”

Steve blushed and that was all Natasha needed to see. He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t mean it, right? Whatever she thought she might have felt between them was definitely just her rarely seen optimistic side. As Wanda changed the topic, she pushed her chair back and stood up, grabbing her plate to take to the sink.

“Not in the mood for canned veggies today?” Steve quipped at her as she passed by.

Natasha shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ever in the mood for canned veggies.”

With that, she fled the room before anyone else could ask her any more questions and headed upstairs, where she eventually climbed out onto the roof to just think. This was ridiculous, wasn’t it? She’d never had anything with Steve; she didn’t have a right to feel jealous that Sharon had gotten there first, especially because she’d told him to ask her out! She’d practically thrown the girl into his arms.

If she was a good friend, she’d be happy for him. Period.

But sooner or later, it became clear that it was time for the Secret Avengers to step out of the shadows. They suited up, they used their one jet in stealth mode to get to the fight (this time in South Africa somewhere) and they did what they were meant to do. Unfortunately, the government knew very well that Captain America was a fugitive and the fight turned into something much worse when other guns were turned on them as well. They got out, but not without a few injuries. Sam was treated for a wound to his ankle, Clint was patched up from a gash to his side… and then there was Steve. Steve, who jumped in front of Natasha like the big, stupid, self-sacrificing bastard he was. He made it back onto the jet with two bullets in his torso and Natasha was deathly silent as she flew them out of there.

She actually didn’t say anything at all until they were back at the house and Steve was stationed in bed with strict orders to rest. Natasha had tried to talk herself out of saying anything at all, but there she was marching into Steve’s room and crossing her arms over her chest while everyone got the hint and got the hell out of there.

“I know that look,” he said, giving her a boyish grin she wanted to slap off his face. “Come on, I’m wounded. Don’t yell at me.” It really only made her angrier than she was to begin with.

“What the hell were you thinking?” She hissed. “You could have been killed.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably in bed, pushing himself up and wincing as his stitches pulled. “But I wasn’t,” he protested. “See? I’m still alive. I’m fine. Can’t get rid of me that easily, Nat.”

Natasha glared. “How about next time you _don’t_ jump in front of a bullet for me?”

“Aw, come on. I’m not gonna promise something like that.”

“Why not? If I did it, you’d be pissed at me.”

“You’re not me.”

“No, I’m _me_ , and you need to keep your focus on the mission. You can’t keep trying to save me.”

Steve’s smile fell a little bit and he averted his eyes, clenching his jaw as well. Natasha wanted to tell him to stop, that her life wasn’t worth everyone losing _him_ , but she felt that would just garner a lecture and that wasn’t what she wanted at all, so she tried a different tactic.

“Steve, this team needs you,” she said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

He huffed out a bitter laugh and turned back to her. “And I—And we don’t need you?”

Natasha stared, pressing her lips together. “You don’t need me,” she answered, stoic and serious and definitely using ‘you’ in both senses; as a group, and towards him as an individual. Whether she was trying to convince herself of the latter or make sure he knew it, Natasha honestly didn’t know.

Steve’s whole demeanor shifted from cocky and pig-headed to a little sad, but he covered it up as quickly as he could. “I’m not going to promise,” he answered. “So you might as well give up now.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha stood up and headed for the door. “You’re a stubborn ass,” she muttered as she left, shutting the door behind her with a little more frustration than was absolutely necessary.

Life went on. It wasn’t a great life, but what could they expect now that they were on the run? Steve recovered and the missions continued at a steadier pace. They even managed not to get hurt next time, and brought down an arms dealer somewhere in Russia. It was a good system, everyone working under Steve. As time went on, Natasha even managed to stop thinking about the fact that he was probably missing Sharon and that she was probably a big reason why he’d even gone for it in the first place.

God, did she _have_ to interfere? She had been trying to be a good friend, but—

But she wanted him for herself. And she had wanted him for herself for a long time.

Fortunately, Natasha’s fear of losing him completely kept her from making any kind of move. Even without Sharon involved, there was this huge chance that he could reject her for the good of their friendship or something and honestly, she didn’t know if she could take that. She would, of course, but it would make things weird and terrible and she didn’t want that weighing either of them down.

Instead, she remained his friend. She made breakfast in the mornings sometimes and shared coffee with him when he came back from his runs. She sat with him on long afternoons while they each read their respective books. She welcomed his casual touches- a hand on her back here, an arm around her shoulders there. Sometimes she caught Wanda watching them and glared, but the truth was that Natasha was falling deeper and deeper into this _pit_ …

The thing was that before, they’d always had something to do. They were training, or fighting, or going off on missions. While she and Steve had grown closer, they’d never had quite spent this much time together unless they were beating someone up. It was strange at first, but they quickly settled in to the point where Natasha wondered whether or not he was feeling it too. It was just so easy.

She realized she had to leave after a particularly bad mission some weeks later. Despite a lot of planning, they were ambushed and the mission was compromised. In the heat of the moment, Natasha completely abandoned the intel they were going for and dove to cover Steve instead, making sure he was narrowly pulled out of the path of a shot that might have killed him. She took a few bad hits in the process, leaving her with what felt like a couple of cracked ribs and some nasty bruises. But only when Steve was safe did she double back and secure the intel. They were back on the jet in no time and while Clint flew them back to their safehouse, Natasha sat and watched Steve pace back and forth.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He asked sharply. “Did you forget why we did this?”

She didn’t answer.

“Natasha, you just put everything aside to jump back into the fight like some goddamn savior. You can’t _do_ that! We had it handled!”

Natasha pressed her lips together. “You didn’t have it handled. No one had your back.”

Sam might have spoken up if he had, or maybe Wanda? But Steve had been noticeably alone in that moment, the others bogged down with all the enemies they were dealing with. Natasha wasn’t just getting needlessly involved- she was saving his life. But she knew how hypocritical it looked.

“The mission is more important than my back,” he said angrily. “What about _your_ back? You could have taken the hit instead and then what?”

“Then at least you’re still capable to get me out of there if you have to.”

Steve was furious. She could see it in the way he clenched his jaw and the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. “What happened to not jumping in front of a bullet for each other?”

Natasha shrugged. “I said you shouldn’t jump in front of a bullet for me, not the other way around.”

“Do you _ever_ mean what you say?”

She couldn’t lie- that hurt. It hit home the same way Tony’s comment about being a double agent had. Natasha barely stiffened, but she did let her brow crease a little in surprise. “I meant exactly what I said,” she snapped. “I said that you couldn’t put yourself in danger for me.”

“Oh, but it’s okay when you do it!” Steve threw his hands in the air and Natasha looked away, but she found herself looking at Wanda instead and that just wouldn’t do.

“If you want to talk about this in private, then we can. I’m not doing this right now.”

Steve wasn’t really having it. “Why? Why can’t we talk about it here, huh?”

“You don’t want to do this here,” she warned.

“The hell I don’t. You could have gotten yourself killed. You could have compromised the entire mission and made all of what we went through completely meaningless all because you were a little worried—“

Natasha stood up fast and Steve _nearly_ stepped back, but he stopped himself at the last second and just glared down at her, their eyes locked. “You’re an idiot, Rogers,” she pointed out. “A goddamn idiot.”

“ _I’m_ the idiot?” He countered, leaning even closer. His nose was nearly brushing hers at that point.

“Yeah,” she answered confidently, even giving him a little, challenging smirk. “You are.”

Steve’s jaw clenched again and Natasha knew she’d won. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said firmly, but there was this thickness to his tone that changed just about everything. Natasha was good at reading people and she felt like she’d put that on hold because of a little knowledge thrown her way, but she was seeing it all now. “Not ever,” he punctuated, grabbing her upper arms and lifting her up with ease as he gave her a little shake. “Do you hear me?”

“Is that an order, Captain?”

There was silence between them except the low hum of the engines and Clint swearing under his breath when he realized what was happening between them. Wanda tilted her head to the side, Sam shifted. Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Sam nudged his arm to shut him up. It was intense, just staring into Steve’s blue eyes as his expression softened little by little and he seemed to reach the same conclusion she had. They both wanted this.

Unfortunately, Steve didn’t follow through. He slowly put her back down on her feet and let go, stepping back, then further back, then finally sitting down on the opposite side of the jet. It stung, but hey. Maybe that was only because he’d publicly rejected her and the sexual tension around them in front of all their friends. Or maybe it was because he wasn’t so much disinterested in her as he was making a conscious decision to not act on it. Maybe Steve just knew she wasn’t good enough for him.

The flight back home was the kind of silent that made Natasha want to go out, find some unsuspecting man, have her way with him, and dismiss him before he realized that he’d just slept with a former Avenger. The problem, of course, was that they were fugitives and unfortunately, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out where they were. She supposed she could probably entice Sam into bed, but there were other problems there and she just—she couldn’t be the thing that tore them apart. No way.

That night, once she’d allowed Clint to wrap her up and make her some strong tea (with what she suspected was a small dose of painkillers that would put her on her ass for the rest of the night), Natasha laid in bed thinking about Steve. Why hadn’t he kissed her? He’d wanted to. She’d wanted him to. Natasha didn’t think he was stupid enough to _miss_ the fact that she wanted him to.

With all that considered, she was back to thinking that maybe he really did think he was better matched with Sharon. Maybe he wanted Natasha in a physical sense, but not much more? It was all very confusing and more than a little hurtful because no matter how _right_ he might be---

Natasha wanted to be good enough for him. She’d wanted to be good enough for him since the beginning, since they’d started working together. Every time she disappointed him, it killed her a little bit inside. It all went back to what he wanted. Stability? A family? A normal life?

She thought that part of the reason she’d been so foolishly drawn to Bruce was because he could offer her a life that _wasn’t_ normal. Bruce would never expect… so much. When they next saw each other, she’d have to apologize to him for what happened. She had a feeling he already knew, though. Their dalliance was just that- a mutual pining for some kind of understanding and familiarity that they couldn’t seem to find anywhere else.

She was drifting in and out of stubborn consciousness when someone knocked and Steve slipped into her room. He asked Wanda if they could have a minute and Natasha could barely keep her eyes open by the time he sat down on the edge of her bed. “I wanted to apologize,” he said quietly. “For earlier.”

Natasha hummed a little, but she couldn’t quite drag any words out of her mouth. Clint must have gone a little overboard with the pain meds, but she _did_ have a couple of cracked ribs, so she supposed he was only trying to help. “I know you were trying to help, but you’ve gotta understand that I can’t lose you.”

Silence. Natasha turned hazy eyes up to Steve and belatedly noticed that he’d ducked his head a little, one hand anxiously rubbing at the back of his neck. “Ah, you might not even remember this,” he huffed almost to himself. “You’re gonna pass out any second now, aren’t you?”

She was. Natasha could feel herself falling asleep and there was a big chance she wouldn’t remember anything he said the next day, no matter how much she wanted to. “Look, just…” He let his hand fall on top of hers and squeezed lightly, bringing his gaze back up to her face. “I’ve already lost two women I loved,” he told her. “Don’t make me lose another one.”

Natasha’s eyes slipped closed after that. She made a soft noise of acknowledgement and she was vaguely aware of a soft laugh and a lingering kiss to her forehead before sleep completely claimed her.

The next morning, she woke up with her face in the pillow, her hair an absolute disaster, and her ribs aching like she couldn’t believe. She pushed herself up and through the mass of hair over her eyes, she found Wanda standing beside her bed with a tray. “Good morning,” Wanda offered, setting the tray down on the bedside table. “Or should I say ‘afternoon’?”

Natasha groaned and peered at the clock, belatedly pushing her hair out of the way only to find that it was almost one in the afternoon and she’d wasted half the day sleeping. “Did I miss anything?” She ventured, pushing herself up into a sitting position with some difficulty and accepting the mug of coffee Wanda pressed into her hands.

“Well, Steve has been moping around since he got up this morning,” she said. “Do you have any idea why he might be doing that?”

The two women stared at each other and Natasha averted her eyes in favor of taking a long sip of her coffee. “I don’t think I like where you’re going with this,” she answered. “Why do you think I’ve got anything to do with this?”

“I’m young, Natasha, but I am not stupid. I saw the way you two were looking at each other on the jet.”

Everyone had, she imagined. “But nothing came of it, so can we drop it?”

Wanda studied her so closely that Natasha eventually turned with a glare and pressed her lips together. “Could you stop that? You’re freaking me out.” But speaking of Steve, there was something kind of pressing at the back of Natasha’s head, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Had they spoken last night?

“You look like you can’t get out of your own head,” Wanda mused, sitting back and crossing her legs at the knee. “I could help.”

“No. I told you. Stay out of my head.”

“Your loss,” she shrugged. “I could definitely help you remember what Steve said last night.”

Natasha’s eyes flashed right to Wanda and she narrowed her gaze. “Why do I get the feeling that you were listening at the door or something?”

Wanda smiled and she looked like a kid again, like she hadn’t suffered and lost so much. Natasha was actually glad that they could have a moment like this together even if they were talking about something pretty sensitive. “Because I was,” she said honestly. “He’s very sweet when he wants to be.”

Natasha huffed and took another sip of her coffee. “Show me.”

Happy that she’d been given permission, Wanda waved her hand near Natasha’s head and immediately, memories of the night before came flooding back to her. She could hear Steve’s voice echoing in her thoughts and while she couldn’t really see him, she could hear every word.

_I’ve already lost two women I loved. Don’t make me lose another one._

When it was over, concluding with what was definitely the feeling of lips against her forehead; Natasha snapped back to reality and just stared at the mug of coffee on her lap. What did any of that mean?

“He _loves_ you.”

No, that couldn’t be. He’d kissed Sharon. She severely doubted he’d fallen in love with her over the past couple of weeks… This didn’t add up. “People can love platonically,” she mumbled at some point. “He said there were two women he’d lost. One was Peggy, but who was the other one? Is there another romance of the century I don’t know about?”

Wanda seemed to contemplate that for a while, her fingers lightly rubbing over her lips. “We must be missing something,” she mused. “I could ask him about it.”

“And admit that you were eavesdropping on a conversation I barely remember? No, thank you.”

“But he _said_ —“

“Wanda. It doesn’t matter. Let’s face it, okay? I can’t give him what he wants.”

She leaned forward and gave Natasha a knowing look. “He wants you. I think you’re capable of giving him that, don’t you?”

Natasha wasn’t going to say anything about it. She couldn’t risk that Steve hadn’t actually meant it the way he said it, and she also couldn’t risk that he had. Men were stupid. They let their desire get in the way of reality and in the end, it would be Natasha that wound up hurt or heartbroken. The concept wasn’t as foreign to her as it had once been. “No, I don’t,” she answered. “Let’s leave it the way it is.”

After that, Wanda gave up the fight and said she’d leave Natasha to her breakfast for the time being. “Just remember that you might not like what happens if you don’t take the risk now,” she advised from the door. “There are other interested parties.”

Natasha thought about that for a long time once she was alone. Obviously Sharon was interested in Steve and while she thought that it might just be a passing fancy, not saying anything now would mean taking the risk that they would—get together in a more permanent sense. Was it even real between them? Was Steve actually interested in Peggy’s niece or was he… kind of trying to hold onto his past?

When she was done with her breakfast, she struggled her way into a shower, then struggled through getting dressed. In a tshirt and tights, she hardly looked like the Black Widow- especially not with one hand clutching her side like it would keep her ribs from scraping against each other. She’d need more pain meds at some point, but she wasn’t going to do that to herself until Clint inevitably insisted upon it.

Unfortunately, she did bump into Steve right there in the living room and he jumped up like he’d been sitting on nails waiting for her. “Nat. Hey. Uh, how are you feeling?”

“Like I took a sucker punch to the gut,” she answered. “But hey, who needs to breathe properly?”

Steve let out a nervous laugh and she realized that he was waiting for whatever fallout came from their conversation the night before. Well, ‘conversation’ wasn’t exactly the right way to put it, but still. In the heat of the moment, Natasha ultimately decided that she couldn’t do this with him now. She couldn’t call him on it. She couldn’t—

A phone ringing cut off any response she might have given him and Steve all but lunged for the phone in his pocket, quickly flipping it open and visibly relaxing as whoever it was greeted him.

“Hey,” he breathed. “Yeah, we’re all alright. You know, as alright as we can be, I guess.”

Natasha stared for a moment. That couldn’t be Tony. It was her, wasn’t it?

“You’re okay too, right? Laying low?”

Definitely not Tony.

“Oh, good. I was worried—“ He let out a small chuckle and Natasha turned her eyes away, eventually moving to get the hell out of that room. Steve’s voice faded as she made her way onto the porch and sat down with some difficulty, still trying to breathe the right way.

So, that was it. He’d made sure that Sharon could contact him and he was probably head over heels in that way only someone like Steve could be. He loved so willingly, sometimes it actually made her jealous that she just couldn’t be the same way. But that didn’t matter right now. It was all over and she just had to get used to that.

But fifteen minutes later, Steve was wandering outside and sitting down beside her again. “Sharon’s alright,” he told her. “She’s laying low in Spain somewhere.”

Natasha put on a brave face. “I’m glad she’s safe. You must be relieved, huh?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, I am. I mean, I dragged her into this.”

“You could probably go see her if you wanted to,” she offered. “You must miss her.”

Steve turned to look at Natasha and she didn’t understand why he looked so confused. “Miss her? I mean, I’m glad she’s safe, but it’s not like we’re close.”

“Do you make it a habit of kissing girls you aren’t close to? I’m shocked.”

Steve’s cheeks heated up and he averted his gaze. “She really helped us out,” he reasoned. “Got my shield back, and Sam’s suit—“ He shook his head a little. “I don’t know why I did it.”

“But you did it,” she reasoned, turning to look straight ahead. “Must have been a good reason.”

“I’m not in _love_ with her, if that’s what you’re getting at. Because Sam seems to think—“

“For good reason, that you might have feelings for—“

“Feelings don’t mean I’m in love. Just because we kissed—“

“She’s not just anyone. She’s Peggy’s niece—“

“Yeah, and that’s a little strange for me as it is, so—“

“So why did you do it?”

“I don’t know!”

At that point, Natasha went silent and just stared straight ahead for a long time before speaking again.

“You kissed her,” she said slowly. “You barely know her, but you kissed her.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah.”

“But yesterday, you wouldn’t kiss me.”

His head whipped around and Natasha just kept her eyes straight ahead. “What are you talking about?”

“You wanted to.”

Silence.

“It’s not a question, Steve,” she reiterated. “You wanted to.”

Another pause. Natasha could feel her heart anxiously speed up.

“I didn’t know if it was okay when there wasn’t anyone chasing us.”

Natasha slowly turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes for a brief moment. “And if I said it was?”

Steve pressed his lips together with a look of resolve. “Then I’d have to make up for yesterday.”

This was it. He wanted her. Did he want a life with her? Natasha supposed that it was up to her to be the voice of reason, but there was this huge chance that speaking up would mean he might not want her anymore and she wanted him _so_ much. She wanted him more than she could remember wanting anyone. It was a risk, but Wanda was right. Maybe sometimes risks were worth it, even though she was pretty sure she’d get hurt in the long run.

“You’d better get on that, soldier,” she quipped, eyes darting down to his lips for a moment. “I’m waiting.”

Steve smiled and Natasha leaned into his hand when it moved to her cheek, eventually accepting his lips on her own as recompense for that rejection the day before. She liked to think the chuckle Steve let out when she grabbed his shirt to pull him closer was one of surprise, but it was probably his amusement coming out. She wasn’t openly affectionate all the time- this was a different side of her.

When they parted, Natasha licked her lips and immediately leaned in for more, sealing their lips together again and winding her arms around his neck—

“Shit. Ow.” She pulled back almost right away, one hand flying to her ribs.

Steve only smiled sympathetically. “Bad timing,” he laughed. “Should have kissed you a long time ago… you know, when your ribs weren’t cracked.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she teased lightly, wincing again when her injury began to throb.

“How about… I carry you back upstairs, get you in bed, get you some pain meds…” Steve was already standing up. He was phrasing this like a suggestion, but he and Clint were going to make sure she got more meds in her system whether she wanted them to or not. “And we can just talk or something.”

“Talk?” She countered sarcastically, raising her eyebrow. “You do know how to show a girl a good time.”

Steve grinned and carefully picked her up making sure her uninjured side was nestled against him so she wasn’t in any pain. “Maybe some kissing too,” he added on their way back in. “If you behave.”

“Oh? So I have to be a good girl to get a kiss? My, my. Who knew Captain America was so kinky?”

His laugh filled the space around them and Natasha felt herself really smiling. It was kind of amazing to be looking up at Steve and realize that perhaps he did want her the way she was. And as they discovered once she’d taken her meds and nestled comfortably against his side in bed, he’d wanted her for a long time now. They’d both been silly that way, trying to deny what felt so very natural to them.

“I _told_ you,” Wanda whispered from the hall. “They’re in love.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like it.”

“Oh, come on,” Sam quipped. “If she’s not going for me, he’s the next best thing.”

Scott stopped behind them on his way to the kitchen and frowned. “What’s everyone doing?”

Three heads whipped around and Steve groaned from inside Natasha’s room. “Go away, guys!”

They scurried off and when Steve looked back down to Natasha, she was sleeping peacefully with her cheek mashed up against his left pec, her arm lazily thrown over his waist. Steve smiled down at her and got comfortable, because there was no way in hell he was moving until _she_ said it was okay.

 

_Three weeks later…_

Natasha sauntered into the living room and landed on the couch right beside Steve, resting her legs on the edge of the coffee table in front of them. “Hey there,” she said casually, draping her arms over the back of the couch. “Today is a great day, isn’t it? The sun is shining, there’s a nice breeze…”

Steve raised his eyebrows and turned his attention from his book to Natasha because there was never a time when she was so very optimistic. Never. “I guess it is a nice day,” he said cautiously. “Nice weather and all.”

“It’s not a ‘nice’ day,” she protested lightly. “It’s a _great_ day.”

Steve blinked. “Okay,” he said slowly. “It’s a great day.”

Natasha tipped her head back and smiled. “Do you know _why_ it’s a great day, Steve?”

“No, tell me.”

“It’s a great day because I’m officially all healed up,” she said easily. “And do you know what that means?”

Steve smiled indulgently and tipped his head to the side. “You can finally go back to sparring and put me on my ass again?”

Natasha rolled her eyes at her—at Steve’s naiveté. “You’re so cute,” she teased, sitting up straight and patiently removing the book from his hands. Steve huffed a little, but she marked the page and set it down in favor of straddling the soldier’s lap. “It _means_ that I can finally find out what Captain America is like in bed.”

He seemed to get the picture pretty quickly. Steve’s hands settled immediately on her hips and Natasha leaned into him, slotting their lips together in a lazy kiss. When they parted, he swallowed and looked up at her. “How about that,” he mumbled. “You’re right. It _is_ a great day.”

By the time someone cleared their throat from the doorway, Steve had managed to get Natasha’s shirt off and tossed it in the general direction of his already missing shirt. That left Natasha in her bra and Steve—fumbling with the clasp in back.

“You need some help with that?” Sam quipped from where he was leaning in the doorway.

Natasha turned to give him a look and he shrugged. “If you take your clothes off in public, people are gonna look. That’s the way of the world, guys.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha reached back and unhooked her bra, wordlessly staring Sam down as the straps fell over her shoulders. There was silence between them as Steve looked on in moderate embarrassment, but eventually---

“Get out.” Natasha’s tone was firm and teasing at the same time.

Sam nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

When they were left alone again, Natasha pulled her bra off completely and smirked down at Steve. “First attempt?” She asked curiously. “How close were you to just ripping it apart?”

Steve sighed. “About five seconds,” he mumbled, turning his attention to the matter at hand and promptly burying his face in her chest. As he mouthed over the soft skin of her breasts and sucked one nipple into his mouth after the other, Natasha realized that perhaps his innocence wasn’t so much _innocence_ as it was _inexperience_. When she arched her back and welcomed his mouth moving down the center of her stomach, big hands bracketing her hips and reminding her of just how small she was in comparison, she was sure of it.

But exploring exactly how good Captain America was with his mouth would have to wait for another time. Natasha found herself far too eager to get to the main event and she tugged Steve’s head up to kiss him again, filthy and full even as she started to really grind down against him. She swallowed a moan and echoed back with one of her own as his hands fell boldly to her ass, squeezing and tugging her closer at the same time.

One great thing about Steve was that even after all this time, he was full of surprises. Natasha wouldn’t have taken him for the type, but he planted one hand on her back and flipped them so fast that her breath left her in surprise. On her back, she was able to hook her legs up and fit her big toes right into his belt loops, shoving his jeans down without hesitation once she’d balanced her weight on her shoulders instead. Steve retaliated by leaning back and tugging her tights and panties all off at once, tossing them aside with little regard for the fact that he knocked over a small lamp in the process.

A split second later, he was bearing down against her, claiming her mouth and grinding his hips down just like she had before. He was a fast learner, she’d give him that. Raking her nails over his back, she managed to hook her legs around his hips and tugged him firmly down against her. “Are you planning on—“

He cut her off by pressing right into her, hitting home in maybe three seconds and pulling a surprised groan from Natasha, who swore under her breath as she tried to adjust to the intrusion- the very _thick_ intrusion, she noticed. “You could warn a girl,” she remarked, lightly thumping her fist against his shoulder and wriggling down to make the position more comfortable.

Steve did seem apologetic, and he made up for it by meeting her lips again and coaxing them apart to deepen their kiss until they were both breathless. With Natasha’s fingers digging lightly into his scalp and Steve’s hips just itching to move, all it took was one little look for everything to become very intense. The minute Steve began moving, Natasha moaned and slid her hands down to his shoulders, nails digging in and leaving long, red lines over his impeccable skin. He’d heal, but that was her little way of marking him and that was all that mattered.

At some point, he lifted her up and let her lower back rest over the arm of the sofa, letting her lean back and arch into his movements as they picked up, his capable hands holding her hips and her ass to keep her from falling. Before long, however, Natasha pulled herself up and very nearly tackled him back, forcing Steve to lie down while she braced herself on his chest and continued their frantic pace.

Not at all used to the intimacy that came with all of this, Natasha was surprised to find Steve with his eyes open and fighting to keep watching her despite how wrecked he looked right now. She made up for it by leaning down and sealing their lips together even as she continued to rock her hips back and forth, barely parting from him at all.

When they parted, it was so Natasha could let out a shuddering moan and sit up again, arching her back as her orgasm slammed through her. As her thighs trembled and she threw her head back, Steve reached up to trace the line of her left breast, brushing his fingertips over her hardened nipple before moving right back down and taking both hips in his hands. He’d watched her the whole time.

While she was still recovering, she planted her hands on his chest again and locked their eyes together as she resumed picking herself up and dropping right back down onto him. She was still oversensitive and let out a low, breathless moan, but she wasn’t going to come this far and _not_ see Steve let go.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait that long. He sat up fast and held her close to his chest, rocking his hips up even as she tried to grind down against him, her arms wrapped around his neck with one hand lightly stroking his hair once he’d buried his face in her shoulder. It was… different. This was so very different and Natasha couldn’t help but wonder if this was what making love felt like. By the time he shuddered hard and came with a muffled swear, his forehead was beading with sweat and when he finally pulled his head up, she could see that he was just about exhausted from all this.

Cupping his face in her hands, she leaned down to kiss him again and smiled against his lips when he shivered in the aftermath of his release. “Worth it,” he rasped, still catching his breath. “Worth the wait.”

Natasha smiled and pressed her lips together. “And then some,” she added easily.

Once they’d regrouped—that is, Natasha stole Steve’s tshirt and left him wandering around in just a pair of jeans and his pride—they headed into the kitchen for a snack and were almost immediately joined by everyone else in the house, who had no doubt heard them because the walls were paper thin and they’d probably been listening anyway.

Sam was the first to speak, beating out a huffy looking Clint. “Nothing? No one’s gonna say _anything_ about this?”

Natasha smirked and leaned up to give Steve a quick kiss amidst total silence from their friends save for Clint clearing his throat in warning. With that, she smirked to herself and sauntered away so she could head upstairs. That left Steve standing at the counter with four pairs of eyes on him.

“Uh, I’m gonna— Just---“ He cleared his throat and grabbed a bottle of water before hastily making his way out of the room and right up the stairs on Natasha’s heels.

“Great,” Sam remarked, rubbing a hand over his face. “There goes any hope we might be able to sleep in the future.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


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